


a tale:

by lorspolairepeluche



Series: The Inquisitor's First Lady [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, ok i lied theres a tiny bit of that too, that's literally all this is is fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8665435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorspolairepeluche/pseuds/lorspolairepeluche
Summary: you ever get that feeling when everything goes right? that you're part of a fairytale and this is your happy ending?





	

_“Once upon a time, there was a simple soldier who became a prince…”_

—

The uniform was uncomfortable. Too much starch, the cloth too new and stiff. He found himself wishing as he shook hand after hand, wishing for the shirts he usually wore in Skyhold, simple and soft. The same shirts Halla wore sometimes, in the early morning after a night in each other’s arms. Even when she had it laced all the way up, the collar was still so open on her, always slipping off one shoulder or exposing the expanse of her back and the scars upon her skin…

“Inquisitor?”

He shook his head to clear it, reluctantly dispelling memories of Halla’s smile over her shoulder. “Josephine?”

“Have you seen Lady Trevelyan?” she asked in a whisper, as anxious as she had been the entire time she was planning the ball.

“I…no, I haven’t,” he realized. “I thought she was with Vivienne.”

“Madame de Fer is nowhere to be found either,” Josephine answered. “I had planned for you and Lady Trevelyan to take the first dance. I…”

She trailed off as murmurs rose in the main hall below at an arrival in the door. Vivienne, as always, looked resplendent in a silver gown in the latest fashion. But behind her…

Behind her was someone even more worthy of Seth’s attention. A gown, certainly not in Orlesian style, deep forest green and almost seeming to float around her. Save for a few dark locks, combed into a sleek fringe across her forehead and down the side of her face, her hair was pulled up behind her head by a jeweled clip. She looked up.

And Halla smiled at him in her gown the same way she smiled in his shirt.

Josephine gave a sigh of relief and nudged Seth. “It’s nearly time, Inquisitor.”

Seth started down the stairs to the main hall, never taking his eyes from _his Halla._ Now, seeing her dressed as richly as any princess, the old disbelief came back. She was _his,_ freely, of her own will. It didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be real. This highborn lady couldn’t love a mercenary who had nothing to his name, who barely had a name at all.

She stopped before him on the suddenly clear dance floor—and she curtsied. Seth had no idea that Halla even could curtsy, but she did it magnificently, her gown pooling on the floor around her as she did. “My lord Inquisitor.”

“No need for that,” he scolded softly, taking her hand to pull her back to her feet. “My Halla.”

“People are watching,” she whispered.

Seth smiled as he placed his hand on her waist, and she placed hers on his shoulder. He clasped her other hand in his and murmured, “Let them.”

The music began.

At first, the dance was just a slight sway back and forth, but the music began to swell, and they fell into well-rehearsed steps together. Halla’s gown swirled around both of them as they danced. Everything else faded away, the music becoming all but disembodied as they moved as one, gold eyes staring into green. Seth saw his name form silently on Halla’s lips, along with three other words he easily recognized, and despite the others watching, he smiled.

The waltz slowed to a stop, and Seth leaned carefully in. _Josephine’s going to kill me,_ was his only thought before he threw caution to the winds and kissed Halla.

The Orlesians might have just thought it a friendly gesture between the Inquisitor and his companion—until Halla’s hands went to Seth’s face and she leaned up into the kiss. He felt her smiling before they parted and she curtsied again. He made a bow back, and the guests clapped politely, even as they murmured among themselves about the kiss.

Seth smiled as he read those three words on Halla’s lips again. _I love you._ He grasped her hand and bent to kiss it, whispering, “I love you, too.”

It was real.

—

Seth followed a wisp of green fabric that he’d seen disappearing through a door—the door to his rooms, he noted. It was late enough and the guests were drunk enough for him to slip away. He followed the green upstairs, calling, “Halla?” as soon as the door closed behind him.

“Out here.”

He climbed the last few stairs to their quarters, following the sound of her voice out to his balcony. She was leaning back against the railing, her gown flaring out around her. She fiddled with the clip in her hair, and as Seth approached, she pulled it away, letting her hair cascade down to her shoulders in dark waves.

Seth threaded his fingers through her hair, gently combing it out, and she leaned into his touch with a hum. “You get tired?” he asked quietly, letting his voice rumble in the way he knew she loved.

“Overwhelmed, maybe,” she murmured as he cupped her cheek, her hair still tucked in between his fingers, and hers trailed absently to cover his. “I’ve never been the center of attention at a party like that.”

“They love you,” Seth whispered. “Not as much as I do,” he added.

She chuckled softly. “Love me? They were as green as this dress with envy.”

“Why would they envy you?” Seth asked, his other hand coming up to cradle her face, too.

Halla smiled, letting her eyes fall closed for a moment before looking up at Seth through her lashes. “Because I have you.”

With the moon behind her, illuminating her gauzy dress, her hair, her skin, it almost felt like…

“Doesn’t it feel like we’re in the middle of some children’s tale?” Halla sighed. “Me in this dress, the ball, the dance… It feels like it’ll all end at midnight or something.”

“My princess,” Seth teased, leaning in to nuzzle her brow.

“All it needs is true love’s kiss from my handsome prince,” she finished.

Seth obliged gladly, kissing her softly at first, slowly until her her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. His brain was pleasantly fuzzy—at least until Halla gasped and yelped just a little, one hand going to brace on the railing as she teetered, and he felt himself nearly overbalance—!

Seth grabbed Halla, sweeping her away from the railing, away from the mountain below. He set her down quickly, stammering an apology, but Halla looked up at him with light in her eyes.

“Do that again.”

“What, save your life?” Seth asked incredulously.

“Swing me around,” she whispered. “I’ve never had anyone do that before. Well…besides when you did at Adamant.” She glanced down, and even if the moonlight washed out her color, Seth knew she was blushing. “It’s…it’s the dress. It’s nice, the way it moves. N-never mind, it’s stupid, I—”

Seth put his hands on her waist, silencing her. “Anything for my princess,” he whispered.

Halla’s gown trailed and fluttered in the air behind her, an echo of her movement, as she gasped and clutched at Seth. But as he twirled, stepping back into their room with her, her smile grew again until she was laughing, laughing, her dress swirling, all the way to the bed.

She bounced as she hit the mattress, her dress surrounding her, her hair splashed over the pillow, and her laugh abruptly stopped as Seth propped himself over her. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her eyes so wide. “Halla?” he prompted. “Are you all right?” He was feeling a little dizzy himself.

“I’m in a fairy tale,” she whispered. Her breath left her in a quiet, almost reverent whoosh as she reached up to caress Seth’s face. “I do love you.”

“That’s good,” he answered, his hand covering hers on his cheek. “Because I love you, too.”

Halla smiled again, the expression spreading from her lips to her eyes in an instant. “You know, much as I love this dress, I think it’s time to get me out of it.”

—

The morning sun glowed on green taffeta and satin that lay pooled on the ground next to the bed. An arm dangled from the edge of the bed, still with sleep, fingers just barely touching the fabric. Halla’s head was tucked into that shoulder, as if she’d fallen asleep gazing fondly at the gown on the floor and wondering how exactly she ended up so lucky.

Her fingers twitched, rustling the skirt of the dress ever so slightly as she stirred. A soft sigh escaped her as she rolled over, the arm that had hung to the floor sliding in under Seth’s waist. Waking could wait. The beautiful spell of the night before could last a little longer.

—

_“…And the soldier prince and his beautiful princess lived happily ever after. The end.”_


End file.
